LycanMate Page 8

  "That…that thing I turned to outside was my Lycan form?"

  "Yes. You can live your life in your human form without changing. I would, however, discourage that. You need to learn how to shift to protect yourself. Not all werewolves are good."

  "And we're…we're soul mates," she stated quietly, her hysteria spent.

  "Yes. If it hadn't been a full moon tonight, you would have changed on the next full moon and I would have had some time to explain everything to you. To prepare you."

  "I see." But she didn't. Her mind was in chaos and she grabbed the first thing she focused on. "Is that why you write paranormal thrillers about werewolves and vampires?"

  "I wasn't always a writer. Two hundred years ago, I lived on a farm with my family and then later I was a woodcutter and then a blacksmith. I started writing in the late 1800s and have been doing it ever since."

  "Oh."

  "Stella, Derek is a werewolf. I believe he was changed last month and he's responsible for all the killings."

  She grew cold. "What?"

  "Werewolves can sense each other even when they're not in their Lycan or wolf form. I knew that first time I saw him when he delivered your groceries he was like me."

  "Oh my God."

  "And I believe he's working for Marcellus. He's one of the oldest werewolves, an evil one who turned to the dark side centuries ago."

  "What does he want with me?"

  "I'm not sure, but of this I am. He wants to turn you and bring you to the dark side."

  "Why?"

  His face was grim. "I'll know soon enough. I just placed a phone call and now have people working on the inside to get that information."

  She felt the blood drain from her face. "How…how can he turn me? You just did that."

  "You turn into a Lycan in one of two ways. When you make love to your soul mate who's a werewolf, or by being bitten by a werewolf on a full moon. Marcellus believes you're still human."

  "So Derek wanted to kidnap and bring me to Marcellus so he can bite me tonight and turn me to the dark side for whatever reason he has."

  "Yes. And when Derek shows up, I'll be ready for him."

  She saw his expression darken. Instinctively she knew this man would fight to the death for her and in spite of her own personal horror, she was afraid for him. "We…we need to call the police."

  "I did while you were unconscious. They should be here soon." He took her hand. "They're like us, Stella. We have werewolves working in the police force in every major city and we all live under the radar. Normal lives. We can't let anyone know of our existence." He gave her a solemn look. "You've probably met a few in your lifetime and didn't know it." He paused. "Vampires have the power to control your mind. Veronica seduced me with her power four years ago and when I found out she was pregnant, for the first time in two hundred years I had something to live for. My child. We got married and Tyler was born. Veronica was not a maternal woman and after that, I hardly ever saw her, but I didn't care. I had Tyler."

  She was going to be ill. "Oh God, I don't think I want to hear more." The something hit her and she frowned. "That first morning here. The cut I saw on your chin?"

  "Lycans heal instantly. Only a silver bullet can kill us."

  "Stop!" she said, bringing her hands back up to her face.

  "Stella, I was bitten by a werewolf on June 7, 1809." Gently, he took her hands from her face. "I was the same age as you see me now, thirty-two, and I was tending to a sick calf in the shed."

  "That's over two hundred years ago."

  "I'm an immortal." He paused. "As you are now."

  "And you didn't believe in psychics?" She felt a bubble of hysteria rising in her throat. "You actually made me try to convince you I can read the Tarot when you can live forever and…and change into a wolf?" She groaned. "My sisters! What am I going to tell them?"

  "Nothing. They can never know. It's not safe for them. You must eventually disappear from their lives once they notice you haven't aged."

  "Never!"

  "You must. And you must stay with me. I will teach you my way of life, how to turn, how to fall under everyone's radar."

  "And you questioned my ability to find things?"

  "I apologised about that. My track record with psychics after Tyler died wasn't great."

  Her stomach dropped. Tyler. "If you expect me to accept all this wild information," she began slowly, her gaze fastened on his, "why can't you accept there is the possibility Tyler is not on the other side." His expression turned cold and she grabbed his arm. His muscles bunched under her hand. "How can you so easily dismiss what my sister discovered after all the crazy things you just told me?"

  Abruptly, he rose from the couch and turned around, his hands clenched at his sides. Then he turned on his heel and their gazes clashed. "I'm afraid," he ground out. "What if she was wrong?"

  "What if she wasn't?"

  His face was grim. "You should get some rest. I'll stay here in the living room until sunrise. I never sleep on a full moon."

  Her heart plummeted. He didn't trust her and yet, he expected her to change her entire life for him?

  She rose to her feet and faced him. "Until you can trust me and believe in me, there's no hope for us," she said quietly.

  He reached for her and took her by the shoulders. "You don't understand. From this day forward you must stay with me," his said harshly. "You're in danger now. Every full moon, the evil of our vampire and werewolf kind go on a rampage, biting as many humans as they can to add to their numbers." He shook her. "I put you in this danger and I won't let anything happen to you."

  Her face paled. "It's too late for that, isn't it? I'm already werewolf."

  Stella stared at the clock. It was three o'clock in the morning and the sun wouldn't rise for another few hours. Gunnar was downstairs and she knew he was standing guard. She felt safe knowing he was here.

  She tried closing her eyes and getting some sleep, but was too overcome with worry to relax. She was a werewolf, she kept repeating to herself. A psychic werewolf. She almost wanted to laugh, but there was no humour in her situation. The irony of it all was as a psychic she thought she was an oddity. What she was now was far worse.

  She heard the door chimes and rose quickly from her bed. "Gunnar!" she whispered urgently.

  She threw on her jeans and T-shirt and stepped into her slippers. She left her room and saw a man stepping through the door.

  "I'm sorry. We're closed," Gunnar said, blocking his entry into the hall.

  Derek followed the man in. "You know what we're here for."

  "Shut up, fledgling," the older man said harshly before he narrowed his gaze on Gunnar. "I know who you are. You're almost as old as Marcellus. Hand her over and we'll leave quietly."

  Gunnar growled like a demon unleashed.

  Stella gasped.

  "No." In a split second, all three men drew their guns. "Stella, run!"

  Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she stared at Derek and the older man's gun trained on Gunnar.

  "I won't leave you," she said.

  "Dammit, this is no time for heroics, woman. I said run!"

  The older man sniffed the air and his face darkened dangerously. "So we're too late." He stared at Stella's neck. "No bite? I see. You have mated with your one. Marcellus isn't going to like this." His hand tightened around his gun. "No matter. Marcellus will torture her for what he wants instead." He smiled evilly. "It would have been better for you, witch, if he'd just turned you. Anyone he turns does his bidding willingly."

  "What does he want with her?" Gunnar ground out.

  "She possesses a gift he finds valuable. She finds things. She will give him all the locations of your cells and one by one we'll destroy them."

  "Gunnar, what's he talking about?" Stella asked.

  Gunnar didn't budge a muscle. He kept his gun pointed at the older man. "There are groups of Lycans all over the world who are sworn to protect the humans. I'm part of one of these groups. Marcellus wants us out of the way so his followers can take over. He wants you to give him our locations. Where we live. Where we hold our secret meetings."

  "Let's kill him, Paul!" Derek yelled. "What are we waiting for?"

  "Don't be a fool," Gunnar said. "You're a fledgling. I'm a two hundred year old Lycan. I'm more powerful than you."

  "I am invincible!" Derek snarled.

  "You're a murderer. It's been you, hasn't it, whose been killing all those innocent people?"

  Derek smiled cruelly. "What of it? They were weak humans, unfit to live." His face turned a dark shade of red. "You're like me. So don't stand there acting holier than thou."

  "You and I are not the same, Derek. I live by the code to protect human life. You destroy it."

  "Enough!" the older man said. "Derek, shoot him!"

  Derek clicked his barrel, but Gunnar was quicker and by the time anyone drew a breath, he'd fired his gun.

  Stella screamed as she watched Derek's body drop to the ground. "Gunnar, you killed him!"

  "He was already dead, Stella. There is no return from the dark side. He already sold his soul."

  She stared at Derek's body and gasped as his body slowly disintegrated right before her eyes and all that was left were his clothes. She felt faint. "Gunnar?" she whispered hoarsely.

  "You are no match for me," he told the older man. "Drop your gun and leave.

  A brief flash of fear crossed the older man's face. "And face the wrath of Marcellus? I would rather die."

  "That can be arranged," Gunnar said.

  "No!" And the older man shifted into his Lycan form. Gunnar followed suit.

  Stella stood staring at two eight-feet-tall beasts. With the speed of light, Gunnar dropped his gun and lunged at the man. Stella screamed as
she watched Gunnar's hulking form bring the older man to ground.

  "Go back to Marcellus and tell him I'm coming after him. Tell him he can never have Stella. Go! Tell him," Gunnar growled in a deep, eerie voice.

  The ground beneath Stella wavered and for the second time in her life, she fainted.

  * * * *

  In his human form, Paul ran naked to his car. He started the engine and peeled away from the inn, reaching onto the seat for his cell. He punched in Marcellus's number as he sped down the highway.

  "Is she with you?"

  "No. And Derek's dead."

  "Imbecile! Both of you! I needed her here tonight. The full moon ends in a couple of hours."

  "He already turned her. She's his one."

  There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. "So my plans will have to change. Find her sisters and bring them to me. I will be at the inn in a couple of days and get the witch myself."

  Another pause ensued and Paul heard Marcellus take a long drag from his cigarette.

  "Oh, and if you fail again, I will kill you."

  * * * *

  She opened her eyes at the crack of dawn and saw she was sleeping on her bed, still clothed in jeans. She heard the shower running upstairs and knew Gunnar was still up. She rubbed her face and swallowed hard as everything from the night before swam before her eyes.

  Shakily, she rose and went to the bathroom. Calm down, she kept repeating to herself. She was never prone to panic attacks, but felt one coming on. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and went into the kitchen.

  The only thing that always relaxed her was green tea and her Tarot cards. Five minutes later, she was sitting at her kitchen table. The shower upstairs stopped and her heart jolted. She had witnessed Gunnar kill someone. She knew if he hadn't, he would be the one dead. Her heart raced and she looked down at her cards.

  Nothing. No images, no visions, no scenes, nothing to take her mind off the past twelve hours.

  She was immortal, Gunnar had said.

  Stella squeezed her eyes. If being immortal meant leaving her sisters she didn't want it. She would rather die an old age with them than know they would grow old and leave her alone for all eternity. At the thought of death, Tyler popped before her eyes.

  She stiffened and looked back down at her cards.

  The images were jumbled and fast, but she made out some of them: An old man holding a stake on the side of a road, a blown tire, the sun peeking through the dark clouds singing someone's skin. She shivered. Gunnar's ex was a vampire.

  Clearing her mind of all thoughts, she focused on what she needed to see. What happened that day two years ago? She lay three more cards down and stared at them. A wave of goose bumps ran up her spine and she took a deep, unsteady breath.

  She could feel Tyler.

  She drew three more cards in frustration. She hated getting a few signs at a time. She wished she could play out the entire scene from beginning to end without having to connect the dots. Stella hated puzzles, but this was one puzzle she had to complete.

  Her senses exploded! She saw a blue pickup truck screeching to a halt on the cliff side. Sand billowed up, creating a dust cloud where the tires skidded. She heard a voice.

  "Praise the Lord."

  Something was definitely off. The man using the Lord's name was not a true believer in God. His perspective on life was blurred, distorted. He had hatred in his heart.

  She drew in a breath and gave her cards another look, wishing Gunnar wouldn't come downstairs now.

  Interstate 145. She gasped. The vision was striking. A road sign. A white sign with bold, black lettering. She drew three more cards, feeling an acute sense of panic. She knew she was close.

  She focused and concentrated all her energies on what the cards were trying to tell her. See saw another sign. Interstate 145, exit Wedderly Road.

  Feeling faint, she rose unsteadily to get a glass of water. Interstate 145, exit Wedderly Road. She remembered where she kept her road map. She put her glass down and ran to the hall table. Jerking the drawer open, she pushed all the papers, mail, logbook, and massage pamphlets aside. There it was. She took the map and brought it to the table.

  Breathless, she splayed out the map and tried to locate the interstate and exit. Map reading wasn't her forte and she knew this was going to take her forever. She glanced nervously at the clock, afraid Gunnar would come down. Hurriedly, she traced her finger along the map and felt a wave of excitement. She found the interstate! Following the line carefully, pausing diligently at each intersection, she froze when she saw Wedderly Road.

  She gasped, raising a tremulous hand to her mouth. Oh my God! It existed. The intersection existed!

  Her heart raced and she tried calming down. She drew a bold X on the intersection. She glanced at the clock. It was six in the morning. The intersection was about a three-hour ride from her B&B. She could drive there this morning and be back by noon.

  She chewed her lower lip. What if she was wrong? What if she went on a wild goose chase and came up empty handed?

  Worse, what if she was right, and did nothing, and Tyler remained missing?

  She marched to her computer. There was one thing she could do to prove to herself she wasn't reading the signals wrong. She googled Gunnar's name and selected the entry that was the local paper's report on the accident. She read it carefully and stiffened when she saw the words, "The car went off the cliff along Interstate 145."

  There was no mention of Wedderly Road, but it didn't matter. It was enough for her she'd seen the right interstate. She shut down her computer and stared at the blank screen, wondering what she was going to do. She made up her mind. Quickly she scribbled a note for Gunnar and grabbed her purse.

  A couple of minutes later, she was speeding down the highway.

  * * * *

  Gunnar cursed under his breath as he read the note. She'd wanted to be alone and would be back by noon.

  Dammit! Marcellus was after her and her life was in danger. His expression darkened as he crumpled the paper and threw it on the table. His gaze caught a folded map next to her cards. Frowning, he opened it and saw the X.

  "I'll be damned," he whispered hoarsely, realising it wasn't far from where Veronica's car had gone over a cliff. How did she find it? The papers only published the interstate. He stared at her cards. She'd done a reading.

  He'd give her a few minutes lead and then follow her. Discreetly. He respected she needed time alone, but she didn't understand the danger would never be over. He grimaced. He could feel her from here, in the kitchen. She was anxious, scared, confused. A Lycan's mate was never far. And soon, after her powers were more developed, she would feel the same connection too. No distance would separate them. He focused again on her feelings and stiffened. Her fear was growing. Something wasn't right. She wasn't afraid for herself. She was afraid for someone else. Who? It wasn't him, he would have sensed that.

  His heart thudded. She really believed Tyler was still alive. He grew cold. Swearing roughly under his breath, he locked the inn behind him and went to his car. Seconds later, his tires screeched out of the driveway.

  She was chasing a ghost.

  Chapter Ten

  She turned off Wedderly. It was a small road with a small forest lining it that opened to a clearing where an old house with a dilapidated wraparound veranda stood. She shivered despite the summer heat. The house looked worn, unkempt. She parked her car and got out. She'd made it this far, she wasn't going to stop now.

  The screen door creaked and an old man came out. An old man with long stingy white hair and a cowboy hat. She stifled a gasp. The man from her reading. And he was holding a shotgun.

  He pointed it at her. "Get off my land. You're trespassing."

  "I'm sorry. I…I need to use the phone. My car broke down."

  He looked at her car suspiciously. "What's wrong with it?"

  "I'm not sure. It's been stalling the past few miles. I would use my cell phone, but I forgot to charge it this morning."

  "You don't look like you're from around these parts."

  "I'm not."

  "Damn tourists," he muttered under his breath. "Well, come in. Make your call and then leave."

  "Would you mind lowering your rifle?"

  He spit tobacco on the ground and glared at her. "Actually, I do mind. Can't be too sure who you are."